What is called a ‘good-length’ ball on ordinary occasions remains on the ground so long and comes off the pitch so slow that a batsman, if he is so minded, can with ease play it back--i.e. he can see it coming on from the pitch in time for him to get back and play it as a simple ‘long-hop.’ Anything short of this will all the more be capable of being played as a ‘long-hop.’ If the ball is pitched farther than a good length, it becomes at once--certainly to batsmen quick on their legs--a half-volley. Thus, if a batsman really gets the time of the ground, he has only to play these two simplest of balls. No amount of spin will help the bowler; the ball in the soft ground may twist at right angles, but it does it so slowly that the batsman has ample time to defend his wicket. In these circumstances there is only one thing for a slow bowler to do, and that is to bowl faster and endeavour, by giving extra pace to the ball, to make it come off the ground quicker. There are some batsmen whom, on these sodden wickets, it is almost impossible to get rid of. They remain for hours, perfectly contented if a whole day is taken up with their innings and forty runs added to the total, the chances of a draw being thereby greatly augmented. A famous professional stick, on one occasion, remained at the wickets when the ground was sodden for one hour and fifty minutes before troubling the scorer; he was then so flustered by the jeering of the mob that he rushed out, hit a catch, was missed, and, amidst as much cheering as if he had wanted one run to complete his hundred, broke his duck’s-egg. Louis Hall, of Yorkshire, was a desperate man to bowl to on these grounds; every ball that was bowled he either played back or smothered. Nothing in cricket could be more dull or dismal than bowling to this batsman on a sodden wicket at Bramall Lane Ground in a real Sheffield fog. A. Bannerman, the Australian batsman, is another terrible hard nut for a bowler to crack on these sodden wickets.